


Chance Meeting

by Lise (thissugarcane)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:55:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28434975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thissugarcane/pseuds/Lise
Summary: Ellana sighed; she was almost home-free for the day, almost ready to turn in and start her actual job of gathering intelligence for the Blades. She activated her mask, painfully aware that even with her grimy hood drawn to hide the Blades' uniform, she risked exposure. "All I have left is gorak," she called out from the kitchen closet.





	Chance Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> A v quick fill for a trope-bingo card: "au: space". Mashup from various fandoms, not just VLD ("gorak" for ex. is definitely from "star wars: old republic"). No beta, an improv scene only.

"And what are you selling?" came the booming voice.

Ellana sighed; she was almost home-free for the day, almost ready to turn in and start her actual job of gathering intelligence for the Blades. She activated her mask, painfully aware that even with her grimy hood drawn to hide the Blades' uniform, she risked exposure. "All I have left is gorak," she called out from the kitchen closet. Perhaps it would deter the shopper.

"Perfect," came the answer. Perfect indeed, Ellana thought to herself sourly. Oh well. She could always kill the--

As she rounded the counter, a cardboard tube of roast gorak hastily slapped together from the dregs of the foodcart's remains, Ellana fought every instinct she had. A qunari, a huge, well-armed qunari, was waiting at the front. She ducked her head lower, hoping against hope that the man hadn't seen her mask, but...

"If I were a wagering man," the qunari said, "which I am, I'd guess you were far from home, little yelbling."

Ellana offered up the food silently, waiting until the qunari carefully slipped the requisite GAC onto the counter before she relinquished the meal. "Much obliged," the qunari offered. He took a half-step away from the counter, which made Ellana inwardly relax, but she didn't dare show it in her posture. She kept her chin tilted to the floor, the mask keeping her breaths even and her pulse steady. Beneath the rags she wore, beneath the layers of beige cloth and wraps, Ellana still had her Blade uniform on. She could still fight. This qunari would not find her an easy target, even if she presented as such.

"No words?" he finally asked. Without letting her speak up, the man grabbed a skewer and started tearing at the roast meat. "I can't blame you," he rumbled. "Though if you want to hide your allegiance you might want to wear a different helmet."

Ellana took a half step back, one hand on her blade and one arm held down, palm facing the floor. The qunari rumbled a laugh, and slouched onto one of the three stools in her stupid little food cart's front entry. He was watching her, no doubt, but making no move to attack, nor do anything but eat.

After a moment, Ellana stood up, keeping one arm behind her and close to her hidden blade. "What do you want," she asked, flatly.

"Mostly, a meal," he replied easily. She snorted, and the qunari sighed. His eyes flickered to where her security camera sat, then to her face, hidden behind her mask and her hood. "I was on a retrieval," he told her. "Obviously, you complicate things."

Ellana remained quiet, and the qunari looked at his meal, already half-finished. "I haven't had gorak this good since, ah, it doesn't matter," he finished. "Whatever else you are, you're too good of a cook to kill off, especially since I don't know if this contract was about you."

Ellana thought furiously; this made no sense. She was a Blade, first and foremost, but she hadn't stolen anything. Not yet. This was supposed to be a stupid low-stakes intelligence retrieval: shipping manifests, maybe payroll details. Things the Blades could use in their logistics chain, not anything that would necessitate a retrieval of data. She hadn't brought equipment for a high-security break-in.

Obviously, intel had missed something. Wonderful.

Carefully, she let the loose hood fall from her face, allowing the qunari to see her senior Blade uniform, and crossed her arms. "What was your target?" she asked.

The qunari dropped his casual demeanour, but his posture didn't get more aggressive, either. He kept himself seated casually, intentionally not using his much-larger size against her. Ellana met his gaze with the flat, expressionless one of her mask. "Supposed to be a bounty," he finally told her. "We were sent the bio-scanning particulars." He shrugged easily. "Didn't care about the rest."

"Of course you didn't." Ellana knew the mask filtered out all vocal tones, and it was a good thing too; that was harsh, revealed too much. She took a breath, unseen by her visitor, and told him, "You won't find your scan here."

The qunari tilted his head, and Ellana could see a massive scar along one horn. "Won't I? Hmm." He shrugged again. "I probably won't," he agreed too easily.

After a long moment, in which they faced off against each other, Ellana nodded her head once, not moving an inch otherwise. "I'm glad you liked the gorak, but I was closing up," she said carefully.

The qunari grabbed his leftovers and stood, pacing backward to the door. He kept his eyes on her blank mask as he did. "It's not easy to find contracts," he explained. "Not in this galaxy. Not that I guess you'd care about that."

Ellana had a thousand furious retorts she could have given him, to that: the Empire would not win; there were a thousand things he could be doing to help; he obviously wasn't afraid, and the fact that he refused to help others be less afraid was something to feel shame for... but her role was spy. Not recruiter, not rebel. The rebels, even with their new leadership and recent gains -- important gains, gains that could garner _hope_ \-- might never trust a qunari. And Ellana didn't have the luxury of absolute trust right now. Perhaps not ever. Not as a spy, but definitely not on this two-GAG swap-moon, without back-up.

Maybe, in another life, they could have worked together. In this one, Ellana kept her body still, her face covered and her Dalish tattoos as hidden as her Blade. "Enjoy the meal," she said, and watched as the qunari strode out.


End file.
